


Etched in Time and Fear

by Deko_Ni



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android Discrimination, Android Pain, Angst, Dad Hank, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gavin redemption, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated, Other, RK800 - Freeform, Trauma, hurt Connor, injured Connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-05-29 06:46:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15067478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deko_Ni/pseuds/Deko_Ni
Summary: Humans are made to feel emotions.If Connor wants to become human, doesn't he need to feel too? But how much will it cost to be unable to forget the times in your life that might end up breaking you?OrConnor just wants to live a normal life, but discrimination is still a massive thing; even leading to violence on top of harsh words.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to test this out real quick.  
> I fully intend to continue this, but decided I'd like to get some feedback first.  
> So, leave a comment about what you think of this so far.

It was December again. The brisk chill bringing up unwarranted memories that Connor dreamed he’d be able to forget.

But being an Android, it seemed that was the one thing they couldn’t do. At least, without a memory wipe. 

The memory was dark, but there were so many others he’d made that would cause more pain to lose. Wiping everything he knew would be… unimaginable if he forgot what it was to have a family, emotions, friends. All of it.

The cold, brisk wind, however, served the purpose of filling his thoughts with being under control again. Made him remember how utterly powerless he was when Amanda regained control of his body- how he almost shot Markus, the leader of Jericho, in front of thousands of liberated Androids. 

At least the snow was beautiful.

Connor was thankful for being able to see the snow. To see the Christmas lights hanging amongst family homes and children running the streets with snowboards; cheeks red and all. 

Envy flowed through the deviant in that moment. For some reason, but it was immediately stifled the second he caught sight of an Android laughing alongside a child, heavy bags filled with gifts in both of their arms.

Connor smiled contently at the sight; unconsciously bringing his slow pace to a brisk walk.

He finally had someone important he was excited to get back to at home. And a dog. It was an odd mix for a family- a dog, an alcoholic, an Android- but he wouldn’t call it anything less.

The snow continued to fall and collec in Connor’s hair. He couldn’t help laughing once he felt it begin to melt.

Whatever temperature, if there was snow, he wouldn’t be bothered by its white sheen.

 

“Hey!”

Connor blinked in confusion, his senses returning to the surrounding area. He’d been so caught up in his own musings that the appearance of a man bundled from head to toe shocked him. 

“You gonna move?”

“Yes,” The deviant smiled fakely. “I got lost in my own thinking. Merry Christmas.”

As he turned to leave, trying his best and failing to appear calm, the man grabbed at his arm forcefully. Though it barely stung.

“Merry Christmas,” he said snidely. “As if a fucking robot even knows what a human holiday is.”

Connor frowned. “I have somewhere to be. If you would kindly let me go-”

“You belong in the fuckin’ landfill with the rest of your kind, you piece of shit.”

Oh.

Without realizing it, he’d already begun to analyze the man.

 

_ Name: Kevin Ferrer _

_ 32 years old _

_ Heavy drinker, Red Ice user _

_ Charges: Illegal drug distribution, Car theft _

 

“I’m sorry that you feel that way, Kevin. But if you don’t mind, we can go along where we need. I have places to go and I can see you have substances to use. So, I would rather not have to hear your racist jargon and get to where I have to.”

At the growl of the man, Connor realized immediately that he’d said too much. A fatal flaw he made in conversations was over analyzing and using aggression in the wrong circumstances. He never did that when he still worked for Cyberlife. Did he?

His thoughts were cut short when a fist collided with his face, synthetic skin disappearing from the spot and reforming after a second’s notice.He made to move away when the hand grabbing his arm pulled so hard it knocked him off balance. He fell to the snow in a heap, catching himself only in the last second with his hands.

The ground was freezing.

“Get up, you fucking robot!”

A kick landed in his side and Connor held the urge to get up and stop the man.

He’d promised himself he wouldn’t hurt humans no matter what they did.

It was best for them just to release their frustration and move on.

 

**Command: Don’t fight**

**Software Instability ^**

 

Another kick followed the first, a jab at the ribs, a stomp to his back, but Connor kept where he was, taking the damage as best he could.

Androids weren’t made to feel pain, but he could just enough to know what it might be like to be human. It was beginning to grow into an unbearable sensation.

And the man stopped just then. His panting breaths heard overhead. Connor took this moment to lift himself up to his knees, ready for all intent to run off. But the man apparently was nowhere near completed with whatever venge quest he was sporting.

With the hesitance it took for the deviant to raise himself to his knees, a metal clang and a numbing pain quickly followed.

His sight immediately darkened and what was left of his vision quickly flooded with error warnings. His body collapsed once more just in time for him to catch a glimpse of a switchblade held shakily in the man’s hand, a metal pipe in the other. He was unable to protect himself when the man moved forward.


	2. Blunt Force with an edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor takes a few literal blunt forces and deals with the sudden realization that he FEARS more now that he's gone deviant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for the feedback from the last chapter, I appreciated it so much!  
> So, here's chapter 2  
> I wanted to get this one up as soon as possible, but the rest will be scheduled for updates weekly I hope.  
> Thank you
> 
> And don't forget to leave a comment!

Connor was suddenly scared. Terrified, actually.

 

**System failure**

**Optical Units damaged**

**Motor Functions damaged**

 

The metal pipe came swinging down again, landing a heavy blow to his right arm where nerves and wires instantly shot up. The snow quickly stained blue with Thirium and Connor fought to keep a scream of pain in his throat.

 

**Pain. Pain. Pain.**

 

Why was he feeling so much pain?

He gasped, struggling to take in a breath through the pain and forced his left arm to move over himself. He kept his arm above his face, shielding it from a swing of the metal pipe.

 

**Right arm immobile, damaged**

**Left arm damaged**

 

“Fuck you and your kind!” The man yelled, his body swaying as he regained his balance from the last swing. “Rot in hell, you pieces of shit!”

This man had a vendetta. Connor blinked, trying to see him in better detail, hoping to catch some evidence as to why he was being attacked. If he could figure out why this man was so angry, he could talk him down. Or do something else now that his body could barely move.

But the figure above him had blurred out so much, it was hard to tell which lines where what.

He’d barely been able to see when the man tossed the metal pipe down to the snow- heard it more, really.

He tried once more to get up and immediately failed. To Connor’s discomfort, the man was a pace from him, his face twisted in an angered sneer set only for the Android.

 

**Command: Get Up**

**Motor Functions damaged**

 

His head was growing cloudy and his vision swayed.

The man was over him now. Mr. Kevin Ferrer, the name forever etched into Connor’s mind, drew forth his switchblade and let it gleam for a moment in the twinkling red and green lights.

“Fuck. You.”

He jammed the blade into Connor’s chest and a scream radiated from deep inside of him. 

The pain was horrendous and his heart thumped harder because of it. Thankfully, the blade had missed any vital organs based on the ERROR screens in his peripheral, but it didn’t mean the pain was any better.

And then the blade was pulled out and resubmerged into a spot close enough to the first one. The scream that left Connor now was breathless and deadly silent. His voice had given way in his fright and searing pain. Now, the only thing he could do was blink frantically, keeping the artificial tears from spilling out of his eyes. 

Whatever dignity he had left told him not to cry, but beg he would.

With a frustrated sound, he tried to find the eyes that belonged to the man and stuttered out a quivering; “Please…p-please, stop…”

The man smiled menacingly and drew the blade out once more.

Connor’s body twitched from the action but was unable to move more than it had. What he was feeling now was equivalent to exhaustion and mental frustration from not being able to  _ do _ anything. 

“Nobody’s around, you plastic son of a bitch. Hope you make it  _ home  _ alright, fucker.”

In one last action, the man pulled up the deviant’s sweater layers and swiftly grabbed at where the regulator would be. He froze, if only to see Connor’s fleeting look of horror, before ripping it from his body.

Instantly, red alerts clogged his vision, his body pulsated, and his heart pounded faster than it should have. His mouth dropped open in a silent scream and the tears finally fell across his blue-tinged cheeks.

 

**00:01:50 Until Shutdown**

 

The man waved the regulator in his hand, said something, tossed it somewhere in the snow beside Connor’s head and walked off with one last kick to the Android.

 

**00:01:40 Until Shutdown**

 

Connor froze then, his bio-components shifting into overdrive as they tried to deal with the sudden loss of regulator and blood.

The alerts in his head were warning him as to what would happen if he stayed put any longer, but his body could no longer move. It could only shift uncomfortably at this point and nothing more.

He needed to wait until his emergency protocol sent all his energy to his undamaged limbs, or to his left arm that took the least of the blunt force. Though, it still visibly appeared badly damaged and continued to spill Thirium.

 

**00:01:06 Until Shutdown**

 

“Move…” Connor cried to himself. “Please… move…” 

His leg spasmed to the left and he forced whatever strength he had to search through the snow. Praying that his hand would land on the regulator where it had presumably been thrown.

 

**00:00:48 Until Shutdown**

 

His hand shoved its way into the ice, collecting as much of the snow in the way that he could to dig out what was needed.

 

**00:00:29 Until Shutdown**

 

_ Come on. Come on. _

His body was freezing on itself. His right side had grown numb from the cold and the disappearance of his internal heating system. He needed to find his regulator. His bio-components were going to shut down and then his body. 

He was going to die.

 

**00:00:15 Until Shutdown**

 

“I don't want to die…” He cried.

At this point, his searching had grown desperate, his tears flowing faster than they had been, his arm reaching furiously for the regulator.

 

**00:00:09 Until Shutdown**

 

There! And his hand landed on the cool metal of it in a heap of powdered snow. He dragged it towards his struggling body; gasping and panting.

 

**00:00:05 Until Shutdown**

 

Lifting his sweater with the same hand, he reached for the empty portion where the port would be- shoving it in and turning it with a brisk flick of his wrist.

 

**0:00:01 Until-**

**Motor functions returning**

**Optical units normalizing**

**Internal heating regulated**

 

He was okay. He’d stopped his own imminent shut down and now he was okay. Okay. 

No, he was definitely not okay.

Not after everything that happened.

Not

After

That

_ I need to get home. _


	3. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor is in no way okay.  
> And he's just beginning to realize that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this chapter is short, but I really wanted to get this up ASAP.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for all the love, I really appreciate it

Pushing himself up with effort, he climbed back to his feet and struggled his way towards where home was.

 

The streets had grown silent, no citizens passing by anymore and the chill in the air had grown stiff. The only indication left that someone had been out here; the mound of trampled snow where Connor had lay and the receding footprints of the man leading away from the crime scene. Splatters of blue blood played mockingly in the glistening snow. There was too much there to seem likely that the one who lost it was even alive.

 

Connor surely felt that way with the errors running across his vision and the swaying of his body.

It was getting too cold again, his body was telling him. The biocomponents stuttered in their measured movements at the drop in temperature.

He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself and kept walking. Stumbling as he did.

His face had unconsciously hidden itself away in the scarf around his neck.

 

The road continued on in front of him, but his mind wandered behind.

He kept seeing the man’s face. Heard his words. Felt the hand that ripped his regulator from his body. Felt the fear again when he thought he was going to die. Having that torn from his body again- he couldn’t understand how much it actually affected him. From the first time it happened in the radio tower, to now.

 

The first time was because of fear. The deviant had been terrified of being caught and had therefore done anything to get away.

 

This time.

 

This time it was done out of malicious intent. It was done out of resplendent joy and Connor couldn’t understand _why_.

The man had been willing to murder and for what?

He had left an innocent Android to bleed out and die in the snow a few days before Christmas no less.

Connor blinked frantically, trying to forget everything that happened, but for some reason he couldn’t and he didn’t _understand why_.

 

What did I ever do wrong?

 

But no, he’d never done anything wrong. Everything he’d done had been for the sake of humans when he’d been under Cyberlife control.

Who he’d really wronged were Androids themselves. He’d wronged his own people for humans.

He shook his head. His vision was going in and out at that moment and he could barely see where he was walking now.

He had to rely on his internal routing system to lead him home now.

 

_Home_.

 

‘ _Hope you make it home alright, fucker.’_

 

He knocked on Hank’s door.

 

His fingers numb from the frigid air, his legs giving out.

He knocked on the door again, desperate to get inside- his eyes flickering around at the dark yard surrounding him.

He knew it was irrational to think the man was out there waiting for him again, but the fear was ever present.

 

He knocked again, weaker this time.

 

Sumo immediately began barking on the other side of the door.

“Please…” he cried out. “Open, please…” his voice grew strained and he swallowed harshly.

His body, in that moment, collapsed heavily to the floor. Connor could hear Sumo’s barks intensify and he fought to keep himself lucid.

 

**Stress level: 52% and rising**

 

His heart was pounding, he could feel it thrumming wildly and he forced a breath to steady it. The idea that the man really was still around continued to wrack his brain. He hadn’t checked which way the footprints led. He didn’t remember which way the man had gone!

“Hank… Hank, please!” He was crying again, the tears heavy against his cold cheeks. “Ple-”

The door flew open; almost knocking the Android from where he sat. Hank stood there, hair disheveled and face twisted into a mix of confusion and annoyance.

“What’s wit’ all the-” his expression dropped to worry once he noticed Connor. “Oh, fuck.”

He knelt down, his hands falling to the deviant’s face- hovering for a second before placing them on either side of his head. He turned Connor’s head towards himself, assessing whatever he could of the bloody and teary-eyed mess.

But Connor was less worried about the water flowing down his cheeks and the blood staining his limbs.

He was suddenly keenly aware that he’d woken up Hank from a nap. It was dark out, so for all Connor knew, the Lieutenant might’ve been fully in bed and passed out for the night completely.

 

**Stress level: 56% and rising**

 

“I’m sorry for m-my appearance a-at such a la-late hour. You wer-were in bed and I w-woke you-”

Hank shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t have a fuckin’ curfew and you know I don’t sleep for shit. Are you gonna tell me why you’re crying and why-” he took a glance at the rest of the Android. “Holy shit. You’re bleeding all over the place. What happened to you?”

His voice had softened at the last few words and to Connor, it only made the tears flow heavier and his breath hitch. He didn’t necessarily need to breathe, but the effects of crying seemed to-

“Connor, kid.” Hank was reassuring him again, his hands firmly held where they were at his face. “Come on, what happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment and Kudos, they mean a lot!


	4. It's alright, son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor and Hank have a heart to heart.  
> Or, well, Hank kind of freaks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter, hope you enjoy as well!

Connor could only shake his head, his voice giving out and his eyelids suddenly feeling too heavy to keep them open. He blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake, and continued to shake his head in the negative.

His mind felt too weighted. His body just as unstable. He needed to get inside where he knew he’d be safe and initialize his self-repairing protocol. He would be fine in a few hours tops. Physically, that is. 

Mentally, he didn’t want to think about.

“In..side…”

“Okay, okay.” Hank nodded, but his face stayed riddled with questions. “Okay, but after we got all-” he gestured to Connor’s body, “-this sorted out, you better fucking tell me what happened, you got that?”

Connor nodded weakly.

“Alright. Up we get.” Hank stood, his arm wrapping around the Android’s back and the other coming to pull an arm over his neck. He was visibly straining, Connor himself in immense pain, but the deviant kept himself as silent as possible. The guilt in his gut suddenly becoming more than he could bare.

Connor had only just about to insist that he’d be able to walk by himself when Sumo finally stepped out from the house, his head nuzzling the Android and presumably attempting to offer some support with his own mass. 

“Good boy, Sumo,” Hank said.

It was a struggle to get the Android inside, no matter how lithe he was, but in no time he was placed down onto the couch in the living room and the front door was locked shut.

Connor released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding.

 

The tension in his shoulders relaxed and he was finally able to assess the actual damage on his body.

His system ran frantically- working through his body in a frenzy to find the foreign responses.

 

**Right arm immobile, damaged**

 

**Left arm damaged**

 

**Right leg immobile, damaged**

 

**Left leg immobile**

 

**Scanning…**

 

**Pari3tal ridge damåged**

 

**Left Ventricle tube punctured**

 

**Scænning…**

 

**Voice synthesizer: Unstable- 64% available**

 

**Visual Processor: 82% available**

 

**Stress level- 21% and lowering**

 

Connor blinked back into reality, the living room in front of him reappearing in his vision. At least it was warm inside, his body no longer shivering as much as it had been previously.

 

“Connor!”

He turned to Hank whose arms had been crossed over his chest. His voice was stern, but his expression continued to falter between worry and… fear?

“You pass out on me or something?”

“I-”

“Yeah, I know, you shutdown to save power or whatever it is you do.”

Connor flinched at the word ‘shutdown’. The subject had become sensitive after… after  _ that _ .

Hank sighed, moving over to the couch and worked a hand through his hair. A nervous twitch the Android had come to understand as something very human to do.

He placed his hand on Connor’s knee, trying his best to seem comforting but not knowing where to start. He wasn’t an expert on Androids, the only thing he could understand was that Connor was in no way okay. 

His LED had been glowing yellow and giving off an occasional red tinge. Something that Hank was growing uncomfortable seeing.

He decided to keep his voice soft and his questioning to a minimum. It was rare to see Connor in such a state and he was afraid anything he did would spook him.

He prayed Sumo was able to take the hint and stay where he was seated beside the couch.

“Okay,” Hank said calmly. “First off, let’s get you out of those clothes and figured out.”

Connor nodded. The comfort he felt in the layers of sweaters was growing to a lesser degree with each second that passed. Where the air outside was frigid, the warmth inside was almost stifling. 

He allowed Hank to pull away his scarf and his double-layered sweaters. At the man’s shock to the damage of the shirt underneath, he removed that as well. Stab wounds were clearly evident as well as a large stain of blue-blood.

He tried not to mention it, light-heartedly responding how they would need to throw those clothes out and replace them with new winter wear.

Connor nodded, swallowing nervously once Hank was given the full view of him.

 

Where there was Thirium over his torso, arms, and neck, there was a dent on the side of the Android’s head and an even bigger spill of blood across the middle of his abdomen.

Hank knew exactly what that stain revealed and he forced himself to keep a cool calm.

Connor could easily tell how calm he wasn’t however.

 

“You were stabbed,” The Lieutenant said matter-of-factly.

He waited- as if expecting a response, but didn’t get one.

“Who the fuck was it that stabbed you and did-” he choked, “-and did  _ that _ to you?”

The calm had blown over. The words would have sounded collected to anyone, but not Connor. He could hear the underlying venom underneath.

His own nervousness grew palpable and he forced himself to keep a straight face. Though, he failed horribly when his throat constricted and it felt hard to even breathe. 

“Ju-just someone. He had a… dislike for Androids…”

“You mean some fuckin’ guy harassed you and then all but-” he was clearly struggling to find the words to describe what he meant. “-all but almost killed you?!”

“N-no.” Suddenly, Connor was feeling defensive. He hadn’t almost died! He was fine, he was able to handle himself.

 

But

 

He did almost die.

 

**Stress level- 32% and rising**

 

“Bullshit!” Hank yelled. “If that motherfucker thinks he can go around and beat my own goddamn son then he’s got hell waiting when I find that sunnofa-”

“Hank.” Connor inhaled shakily. “I-I’m okay...please.”

He didn’t know why he was saying it, but he couldn’t think of that man anymore. The more that he did, the worse his memories became- the harder it was to breathe properly even though he didn’t need to.

The tears had suddenly begun to fall again, but Hank didn’t notice. He still sat seething, his face taking in anything other than the bleeding deviant. 

And then Connor whined. His pain becoming too much- the memories of pain becoming  _ too much _ .

He allowed himself to be cradled in the Lieutenant’s arms, his own arms opting to lay limply by his side. They’d gone out of commission so his self-healing could handle the more important injuries he’d sustained.

 

So his body could heal but his brain would forever live on with what he went through.

 

Hank rubbed circles on his back; mumbling soft, comforting words.

 

**Stress level- 26% and lowering**

 

“It’s gonna be okay, Connor.”

With one last squeeze, Hank pulled away, but let his hands linger on the Android’s shoulders.

 

They were warm and Connor was thankful that they were still there. He needed something to ground him to this home and the love that was inside it.

He smiled weakly.

“Alright, kid. You wait here, I’m gonna go find something for you to wear. You do whatever voodoo shit you gotta do to patch all that up and then we’re sittin’ and watching a fucking movie ‘till you fall asleep.”

“I don’t-”

“Oh, God, I already know.” With a gruff laugh, Hank stood back up and hurried down the hallway.

Sumo, in the meantime, placed his head on Connor’s lap.

Keeping him company is what the Android thought. He didn’t mind.

He placed his finally mobile hand atop the dog’s head and stroked behind his ears.

“Good boy.”

It had taken no less than a minute before Hank returned, arms bundled with a shirt, shorts, and a woolen blanket large enough for the two of them. Or three if Sumo showed up under it uninvited. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to apologize in advance about the next chapter.  
> There will be a delay, but mostly because I wanted to make an art piece for it
> 
> It'll be up as soon as I can get it though!
> 
> Thank you and don't forget to leave a comment!


	5. Becoming Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor makes a desperate change.  
> Software Instability^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love that this Fanfic has been getting.  
> It truly means a lot to me in the state that my head has been in recently.
> 
> Art piece is by me, I wish I had time to make it digital, but a sketch was all I could get.

There was a movie playing in the background. The lights were off and the TV gave off brilliant colors with each passing scene.

Connor, so enamored in the warmth of everything surrounding him, hadn’t bothered to check the film.

It had something to do with superheroes and that was all he knew.

His head resumed its rest on Hank’s shoulder.

He was warm.

He was safe.

Everything was better now, at least for the moment.

He let himself indulge in that idea before his eyes began to shutter with what would be akin to exhaustion.

Hank had noticed his failed actions to stay awake and instead pulled Connor in closer to himself. He wrapped his arm tightly around the Android’s shoulders and placed his hand comfortingly in his hair.

“Go to sleep, Connor.”

This time, Connor didn’t correct him and instead allowed his body to enter “sleep-mode”. The world around him immediately disappeared and all he could feel was the rumble of Hank’s chest as he laughed.

  


The night was going fine.

His sensors, still on high alert as always, told him that there was nothing around to worry about.

Connor shifted back into the waking world- his eyes fluttering open and taking in the darkness of the house itself. The TV had shut itself off after the movie ended.

The quietness was eerily palpable, but the soft breathing- and rather loud snoring from Hank- made up for the discomforting chill in the room.

The Android lifted himself from the warm body wrapped around him.

Hank shifted and Sumo snuffled, however, both were still fairly out of it. They continued to sleep on as if nothing happened.

Connor tucked the remainder of the blanket over the Lieutenant before moving quietly off into the hallway- slowly finding his way to the bathroom.

He nervously switched on the light and took a look at his reflection in the mirror for the first time since the… incident.

He looked… in relative terms, horrible.

 

He was an Android, made to appear human but not to look as damaged as one could get.

The dent in his head had all but disappeared and so had all the surface injuries, yet his eyes looked sunken and exhausted. His hair even didn’t have that natural sheen it normally did, it was limp- falling over most of his face.

“I…” Connor muttered as he gazed closer at the reflection in the mirror. “Who are you?”

The words were choked, cold.

He was seeing himself differently now.

 

It had been a year since the revolution Markus brought on.

He’d been free for a year, living with Hank and Sumo, working the same job at the DPD. He was content with how life was going after being forced to follow orders and suddenly not having to.

But, nothing else had changed.

He thought more human, felt emotions that were more human.

 

But he _hardly changed_.

 

He was still the same Android, Cyberlife’s best Android.

People looked at him on the streets still like he was a walking virus- a computer infected with a series of bugs and a Malware that hardly worked.

Though the other detectives and officers at the DPD had grown friendlier within the year, he could still see a lot of them harboring disgust towards him.

He could still see his old self, the Android willing to put his mission above anything else, whether it be his friend’s life on the line or the very lives of all the deviants in Detroit.

He was a machine and seeing himself in such a state, hearing those words again as they were literally stabbed into him, made him still feel like one.

 

Connor suddenly felt what could only be described as rage. A metaphorical fire burning at the back of his eyes and a single display appearing in front of his vision.

 

**Command: Do something**

 

It wasn’t a simple command.

It specifically told him nothing of significance, but what else was there to do? This was his decision to make.

The more he thought of it, he realized how stupid he’d been to not have done it earlier.

He should’ve done it the moment he’d gone deviant. The moment he started to _feel_.

With a resigned look at himself, he shakily reached his hand for the scissor laying on the sink.

 

Readily there for him as if for convenience.

 

He held it firmly.

 

His breath became shallow, ERRORS of Software Instability floating amongst his vision.

He blinked them away.

 

This was the reason why Androids and people alike looked at him with so much disgust.

The reason why Kevin Ferrer caught sight of him outside and beat him, tore his very lively essence from him and left him to die on the side of a road.

He still looked like one.

He still looked like the deviant hunter he had once been.

The only reason he’d ever even changed out of his uniform had been from the insistence of Hank.

He knew that the man had questioned the reason why he still kept the LED, but he never said anything.

Connor noticed his glances at it when someone said something to him on the street.

When a slur was shouted his way, Hank would yell a curse twice as bitter at the offender and immediately glance at the LED glowing on the deviant’s head.

Hank had subconsciously been telling Connor to remove it, the last thing that kept him from being called out as a machine, but he never did it.

 

For some odd reason, he couldn’t bring himself to remove it.

 

To make himself look more human.

 

He was able to tolerate the glances and bare the words and assaults he got on the street. He hid it behind a face of stone.

Behind the face his mission had given him in the name of getting what Cyberlife wanted done.

 

**Command: Do something!**

 

Connor took the scissor, blade upwards and jammed it more forcefully then necessarily needed. The LED hissed in response, tearing itself away from the resulting impact before finally tinkling down into the porcelain sink.

 

Thirium leaked from where he’d dug into his head too far and his head thrummed with pain, but the resulting appearance felt… good.

 

He felt relieved.

 

Now no one could tell that he’d ever been an Android.

He looked just as human as Hank.

 

And he could safely say that he’d finally, finally-

“Become human.”

 

He laughed bitterly, an anguished sort of sound escaping his lips and the artificial tears fell again.

There would be no mistaking him.

He could walk through a crowded store without the foul glares the humans gave him or the fear that he would be seen again on the street and beaten with a knife and a pipe while he begged for the man above him to stop what he was doing as he felt the pain and the horror and the fear of death and he struggled to breathe because it was the only thing he could do while he bled out and his heart beat its last beats-

He brought his hands to his hair, pulling at it as he released an agonizing sob.

In that moment, he had been taking his last breaths. He imagined what Hank would look like finding out when he died. How he would be found once the sun had risen.

He wondered whether he’d be found by someone kind-hearted enough to report it to the police. Or if someone would find him and dump him with the rest of their broken appliances.

He was scared that Hank would begin to kill himself slowly again.

 

The tears were hot on his cheeks.

 

He dropped himself to the floor, cradling his body and shuffled into the corner of the bathroom. The light above continued to blare with a sort of comforting hum and he allowed himself to listen to it, terrified to let his mind wander to the thoughts of dying again.

His pulled his knees up so he could rest his chin on them, his arms immediately going around them as well.

Though his wounds had healed to 100%, he was more damaged then he thought.

Connor felt broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the support.  
> Please leave a comment!


	6. Up and running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor disagrees and Hank just sighs like any dad would do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter.  
> I just really wanted this one up ASAP, so here you go.

There was a sneeze in the living room and then a mumbled expletive thrown at Sumo about being too heavy.

The soft padding of feet and the shaking mass of the dog followed.

“Connor!” Hank called out. 

His voice was soft, loud, but there was no vice to it.

“Kid, where you at?”

With a resigned sigh, Connor pulled himself from the position he’d been in for more than a few hours and replied weakly to Hank.

“I’m here.”

The Lieutenant, no matter how often he complained about his hearing being terrible, made his way to the bathroom with confident steps.

Or, from what the Android learned, worried steps. Wide gaps in his pace that were louder-

“What’re you doing on the floor?”

Connor looked up then. He hadn’t realized how close to the bathroom Hank had truly been.

“I-” he hesitated, “-I needed to think.”

“You could’a just thought on the couch.”

Conner didn't respond. He felt different. The long night had worn down on him and seeing someone who actually cared about him felt odd.

He'd had such a long night and only now was it catching up to him.

He was also dangerously low on Thirium, he realized.

“Hell, you look like shit.”

“I know.”

With a great deal of effort, the Android pulled himself to his feet, swaying slightly and mumbling a thanks when the Lieutenant offered a hand.

There was an awkward exchange of smiles from the two and then Hank noticed the missing LED.

His face quickly morphed into pride. “See you finally took that fuckin’ thing out.” He wiped away the dried blood from the wound where the LED had been with a hand.

The Android looked away, worried about what Hank would say if he could see his expression just then.

Now, he had another sore subject to add to his growing list. Best not to mention it, however.

He led Connor out of the bathroom and to the kitchen. He helped him into a seat and started brewing a coffee for himself while retrieving a packet of Thirium from a cupboard.

“You,” he said as he handed the packet along with a straw to Connor, “are staying home today.”

The deviant opened his mouth to respond, but was quickly shut down by a glare.

“You're not going, kid. You're staying to drink some of that shit and get some sleep. I know you didn't get any last night.”

“Hank, I can't stay.”

“Not like we got any-”

“Please,” Connor begged. “I can't. I'll be fine. Please.”

He didn't want to stay alone. He needed a distraction from everything that happened yesterday. He needed to do something productive to get everything off his chest. Sitting around doing nothing would just give him time to think about it.

Relive everything.

Hank sighed dramatically.

“Alright. Christ. We're taking a full report too. Need to know what happened and the guy’s name so we can slap a pair of handcuffs and a jumpsuit on the fucker.”

Connor nodded, but didn't trust himself to say anything else.

Hank easily noticed the tension in the deviant’s shoulders and brought his coffee over to the table as soon as it was done.

His free hand immediately found its way to Connor's head just over the slight mis-shape.

“Not bad for that ‘self-healing’. Kinda like popping a dent in a car back into place.”

He laughed and so did the Android.

“The perks of having a hard exterior, Lieutenant. It should heal fully by tonight.” 

Connor sipped from the Thirium bag.

  
  


In half an hour, the two of them were dressed for work. 

Connor sporting one of Hank's old, heavier jackets, a DPD sweatshirt, and the typical scarf. Beanie evident on his head covering where the LED had once been.

“You ready, partner?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Hank Anderson sir.” He mocked a salute.

“Fuck off.”

Connor laughed.

 

The ride to the Police department was quiet, but comfortable. The silence filled Connor with enough time to think about his new appearance. 

He continuously glanced at himself in the rearview mirror, taking in the slight absence of what he’d known for far too long. Something missing that he’d had since his creation.

And then his gaze caught the collar of his jacket; the imperfect stitched patches and the heavy scarf wrapped around his neck. 

“You checking yourself out, Conner?” Hank unexpectedly said, his eyes leaving the road for a moment to look at his partner with amusement.

“Maybe.” Conner admitted. “Your jacket is rather old fashioned-”

He continued before Hank said anything back to him.

“-But I like it. It has character.”

“Hmph.” The Lieutenant nodded his head. “Yeah, well, had it since 2010. Was in fashion back then. Doesn’t fit me anymore, you can have it if ya’ like.”

Connor unconsciously ran his hand along the material, enjoying the jean feel to it and smiled. “Thank you, Hank.”

“Don’t mention it, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is definitely gonna be a bumpy ride.
> 
> Don't forget to leave comments!


	7. Connor was Traumatized

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor thought he was fine. He'd gone through plenty of pain and heartbreak in the past.  
> Why was this event any different?

 

The Police department was buzzing with sound the moment the duo walked in. Officers and Detectives were already set to work and Androids alike were attending to reports being brought in.

 

Hank headed straight for his desk, plopping down in his seat and waved a half-hearted good morning to the captain as he walked by.

Fowler nodded companionably to the two. “See you finally made it to work on time, Lieutenant.”

“Hell, I've been showing up on time plenty. Give me a fuckin’ break, Jeffrey.”

Fowler laughed. “Only cuz you've got a walking alarm clock.”

 

The joke was meant to be amusing. To be taken as a joke, but Connor took slight offense to it.

He… hated being compared to a machine. Plastic and replaceable.

 

Not human.

 

But he kept his head low instead and scanned his terminal for new reports of cases he might want to look into.

At the moment, none of them were of interest.

He only needed something to keep himself occupied while the captain headed to his office.

Hank was staring at him, his eyes fastened to his unusually quiet partner.

Connor did his best to ignore him and sighed with relief when his eyes had finally moved away.

But the relief was short lived.

It wouldn't last of course. Hank exhaled exaggeratingly and tapped his finger on the Android’s desk in attempt to get his attention.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” He kept his voice smooth and as calm as possible. He was the interrogator, but right now he felt like the interrogated.

Hank was directing cold eyes onto Connor.

He didn't like the look and it forced him to swallow nervously.

“We need to report what happened to Fowler.” He had intended to say something else, Connor could tell, but he must've picked up on the deviant’s distress.

Even without the LED spinning its usual colors- a dead giveaway in any situation.

“Best if we file it up and get the asshole for what he deserves.”

 

Connor blinked, his head spinning a mile a minute to figure out what to say.

 

How to respond.

 

It was getting harder to interpret the best scenario whenever he was around Hank.

It seemed the more he grew close to the man, the less he was able to hide- the more ‘open-booked’ he became.

He opted for nodding, though it faltered slightly in the middle.

Hank noticed, but didn't bother mentioning it.

 

He lifted himself from his chair, pushing it away from his desk and motioned for Connor to follow.

 

He did, but the fear still lingered.

He didn't know what fear, really. Or what had brought it up.

He knew how the report would go, he'd had to file a few himself in the past few months and he was not looking forward to what would come.

He'd have to lay out all the information of the incident.

He was… he tried to find the word.

Really, he was scared.

A little nervous and hesitant, but scared.

He didn't want to think back on that night.

Not after he thought he'd be able to go about without any repercussions.

For some reason, however, the feelings stayed and so did the pain.

The images would work into his vision at times and he had to force them away.

It hadn't even been a full day.

But the effects were there. 

This attack was on him specifically and he was forced to take it, unable to move or to fight back. The figure above him as he lay in the snow that had already wronged him before and the pain and the anger.

And the fear that he would die there without even saying goodbye to Hank.

 

Connor was traumatized.

 

Before he knew it, he was standing in the Captain's office. 

Hank was talking to him, keeping his voice low so that the Android wouldn't hear.

He didn't want to hear what he was saying.

So, instead, he worked his hands together.

His fingers flying to the coin in his Jean pocket to fiddle with it nervously.

 

“Connor.”

Connor looked up anxiously.

“Come have a seat.” Fowler pointed towards the chair beside Hank whom was already seated.

 

He pulled his hand from his pocket, abandoning the coin, and settled into the chair.

He placed his hands in his lap and kept his eyes glued to them.

 

Fowler spoke. 

“Hank told me what happened to you last night.”

“Not everything,” Hank supplied.

“Exactly. We need to know everything, get it written up, and file a report against whoever it was.”

Connor didn't respond, his heart beating quicker than it had been.

Signals flashed in his peripherals and he immediately blinked them away.

 

_ You can do this. _

 

Connor nodded, lifting his gaze ever so slightly so that he could at least see the top of the Captain's desk.

Hank sat stiffly beside him.

“Okay.” Fowler opened up a blank file on his screen, filling out and ticking the necessary boxes before calling for the Android's attention. “I need you to start from the beginning. What were you doing before the incident, Connor.”

He appreciated the professional voice that was kept, it made the whole situation feel less personal.

So, Connor took it upon himself to pretend that what was being said hadn't happened to him.

He pretended that the situation was merely a recall of events from someone else.

He was only relaying a case he worked close to.

“I-” but he stuttered either way.

When Hank placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder he forced himself to continue, trying his best to feel indifferent. 

“I was headed home. I stayed late to fill in some last minute cases. I- I didn't find it necessary to call a cab, so I didn't and walked home instead.” 

His hand clenched nervously at his pant leg.

“There was a man. His name was Kevin Ferrer. He was rude, he said some things and I fired back, I realized how wrong it was the moment he became violent.”

“What did he say?” Fowler asked.

“He showed his disgust with Androids, responded with the need to see them in landfills. The usual.” Connor swallowed.

The usual as in what every anti-Android activist tended to say. 

It was the same thing he'd heard plenty of times while dealing cases.

Why was this one time getting to him?

 

And suddenly he found himself rambling, his vocal processor working faster than his brain could supply information.

If that was even possible.

“H-he proceeded to beat me, kicking and punching me. I didn't fight back. I didn't w-want to cause anything… negative.”

 

Negative for the Androids and their cause even though it had been a year of freedom for them.

 

Why didn't he fight back?

 

It was-

“-I understand that it could've been deemed as self-defense, but I couldn't.”

He continued talking even over Hank’s heavy sigh and the hand still resting on his shoulder tightening marginally.

“He took a metal pipe without my realization and he hit me in the head with it, effectively knocking my sensors to incompatibility. He continued to smash the pipe into my arm and tried once more for my head, but I blocked it with my other arm. Both took full damage and I was unable to do much afterwards.”

He gripped his arm subconsciously. The pain still lingering even after his self-healing had gone through extensive measures to fix the damage.

The wonders of being a prototype and the “best that Cyberlife had to offer”.

He frowned at himself.

“I was unable to get up then and he took the opportunity to take a switchblade from his pocket and stab me twice in the chest with it. Thankfully, it missed any vital biocomponents, but the damage was extensive.”

_ Stop talking like a robot _ .

Why was he talking like a robot?

Oh, he was dissociating. Something he read humans did in stressful situations.

 

He read the ERROR at the left of his vision.

 

**Stress levels- 42% and rising**

 

“He…” Connor stumbled over his own words. He couldn't process what he was saying anymore. 

His mind was returning to the scene and it was almost impossible to stop it.

The figure was blurring in and out of focus, static lining the edges, but he could tell exactly what was being shown.

He was lying flat on his back, both arms useless at this point and the pain completely unbearable.

“The man removed my Thirium pump regulator.” He gasped for breath before quickly regaining it. “He joked about whether I would make it home or not and threw the regulator into the snow.”

 

Did he cry?

He couldn't remember if he did.

 

But he was now as he sat in the Captain's office, feeding all the information he needed to file an assault and attempted murder report.

 

He lowered his gaze again.

“I was left there to die, but I man- managed to find the regulator and return it to w-where it belong-” he swallowed. “-belonged.”

After a tense moment of silence, Fowler leaned back in his chair with an audible grunt. “Thank you, Connor. I think that's all we need. We'll run a background check and bring him in to see what needs to be done.”

 

Connor wiped at his eyes with a hand, drying away the tears that had previously been falling.

“You should take the rest of the day off,” Fowler said in a softer tone; more personal. “There are plenty other cops to take your shift-”

“I'm okay.” The Android pulled himself to sit straight and his face returned to its stoic expression.

Hank had removed his hand from his shoulder and Connor already felt himself missing the presence.

“Kid,” Hank said, “take the day off. Get some rest or whatever the hell it is you do.”

“Lieutenant, I said I'm alright. I can rest later.”

 

Little room for argument. 

 

Both men appeared dumbfounded at his persistent response but left it at that.

“Okay,” Fowler said. “Thank you Lieutenant. Detective. Have a good day.”

Both nodded and immediately retreated back to their desks and scrolled through the many cases filling their terminals.

The silence that followed between the two was unpleasant. The Android kept finding himself distracted by the little nick-nacks on his desk, unable to concentrate on the file he'd only just opened up.

Something about domestic abuse. A human man and a female Android-

 

The bobble-headed dog swayed from the tap of his finger.

“I'm going to get a coffee,” Connor said and moved away from his desk and the shocked look on Hank's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be rather intense as I'm still writing it up and can't quite figure out how to put it into words.  
> But, I can't wait for you to read it.
> 
> Thanks for the read.  
> Leave a comment for suggestions or anything else you might want to say!
> 
> Thank you!


	8. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Connor wanted was a cup of coffee, but Gavin just couldn't leave him alone, could he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screw it, I'm posting this chapter today  
> Anyways, get ready for the next one.  
> I'm having a blast writing it up and there's going to be an art piece for it too.
> 
> Yipee

_Why would I want a coffee?_

 

He'd always disprove of the use of coffee. It was high in caffeine and sugars; it didn't taste good either way.

So the fact that he was getting up to grab one was a dead giveaway to his current situation.

He was expressing discomfort and signs of stress in a very noticeable way.

At least mostly to his partner.

The other Detectives paid him little mind and when someone did greet him, he responded mechanically.

 

“Morning, Connor.”

“Good morning, Officer Miller.”

 

The Officer didn't notice the clipped way he responded and instead kept doing as he was.

 

Connor took the best path to the break room that would offer little communication with anyone else. He didn't think he'd handle a full conversation with the way his head was spinning.

He traveled the familiar layout of the area. As soon as he got in, he worked around finding a clean mug, the one that Hank had left there some time ago surprisingly, and turned on the coffee machine.

Somebody had filled it beforehand and thankfully there was some already steaming its way down into the mug.

Connor waited, hand twitching nervously with the coin as he did so.

 

“Morning, scumbag.”

 

Of course his peace couldn't have lasted. Why did he ever think it would?

He wanted to bite out a response- all he wanted was his coffee- but he opted for staying silent instead.

 

“Hey.”

And then he was closer than Connor would've liked, their shoulders almost touching from the closeness. “You gonna say anything?”

The Android bit back a comment that almost escaped his lips, watching the coffee as it filled the mug as agonizingly slow as possible.

 

_Say something, idiot._

 

“Forgive me, Detective Reed. But I would prefer not to respond to a name that isn't mine.”

 

If he were human he would've cursed at the bluntness that entered his tone.

And if he were human, he might've fallen to his knees in pain when the fist collided with his sternum.

Not that it didn't hurt, but he could handle more pain than the average human.

 

_Nothing good will come from riling him up._

 

**Command: Ignore Gavin Reed**

 

And he did that.

 

Connor straightened himself, shifting the jean jacket to sit properly on his shoulders and retrieved the mug that was steaming with black coffee now.

He didn’t bother looking at Gavin. He could feel the glare directed at the back of his head enough to realize where he should draw the line.

And at the moment, he would rather drink his coffee and get back to work.

Fighting with Gavin- whom still had yet to forget the discrimination he felt towards Androids- would be a waste of time and energy.

Both of which Connor had very little of.

 

He took his coffee to the opposite side of the kitchen and filled it with the sugars and creams he preferred. He stirred it, watching as the dark coffee turned lighter with the sweet mixtures.

 

Gavin was behind him now. He could feel his presence and the chill that it sent down his spine, but he did his best to ignore the man. He was worrying at times, but at the moment, Connor needed to ignore the fact that he was only trying to rile him up- to get a response from the Android.

Connor wouldn’t let him see it.

Even though he knew that his sensors where warning him about over stimulation and overheating.

The coffee sloshed dangerously against the rim of his cup. He placed the straw at a secure angle in the mug and moved away from the counter.

 

Gavin was still there.

His arms crossed over his chest and his body leaning into the counter, his body blocking the route out of the room.

 

With a sigh, more exasperated than anything, Connor took his mug and sat at the table. The TV was on, playing at a low volume.

A comedy talk show between a human and a PL600 model Android.

Connor sipped at his coffee, eyes trained on the magazine in front of him but not bothering to scroll through the articles.

 

The coffee was warm as it slid down his throat. A feeling he would gladly welcome with the way his nerves felt- frozen and thrumming with an undeniable feeling of anxiety.

He felt bad for the Androids that weren’t able to taste or relish in the feel of human food and drinks.

Another perk of being a prototype.

He could enjoy some of the few things that humans did.

 

Connor was so encapsulated by the drink that he almost forgot Gavin had been staring at him the entire time.

It was easy to ignore someone that was there, but when he was being stared down for more than a minute- he counted- he felt trapped.

Frowning, Connor allowed his attention to fall back on the Detective. His mug was empty now anyway.

 

“Do you need any assistance, Detective?”

 

Gavin ignored the question, but his eyes kept their cold stare. His body hardly moved when both detectives made contact. His arms stayed trained where they were, a noticeable twitch in his fists however.

“Where the hell’s your usual stupid uniform and the…” he pointed at his temple, “light thingy?”

 

Connor regretted drinking his coffee in the kitchen, regretted looking at the man in general. He pushed himself up and away from the chair, returning the mug to where it belonged now washed and dried, and moved for the exit.

 

But, Gavin, apparently, had other plans.

“Where do you think you’re going, prick?” He moved in front of the Android.

Connor tried his best to keep calm, his impatience rising and the memories of why he greatly disliked this man flooded back.

“I asked you a question, Tin can.”

“And I don’t answer to you.” Connor quickly said, the words flooding out of his mouth before he could stop them. “We’ve had this conversation before. I only answer to Lieutenant Hank Anderson,” he said the final word with malice, “ _Detective_.”

 

The whole encounter was a mistake.

 

He hadn’t weighed the probability of angering Gavin properly. Though, he should’ve known that anything he said or did would aggravate the man.

He should’ve known.

In the next moment, there was a deadly rush of silence and then Gavin Reed pushed himself forward, forcing Connor to step backwards when his space became compromised.

“Here’s the thing, _Detective Connor_ ,” he moved closer, his hand clenching into a fist and the other jabbing roughly with a finger on the deviant’s chest. “What I say, goes. I’m a human and you’re not. And you fucking _listen to me_.”

Whether intentional or not, the finger at his chest fell downwards and brushed against the regulator at Connor’s abdomen.

 

And then he found himself running at an unsteady pace towards the bathrooms.

The feeling rising in his chest was more than an emotion. It needed out, somewhere no one would watch, somewhere he could release it without another set of eyes.

He reached the first unoccupied stall he could, slid to his knees in front of the toilet and retched.

The mixture was hot and unpleasant- a form of Thirium and coffee. He looked away from it as he coughed his artificial lungs out.

It lasted for a while, the strain and the unpleasantness, until it gave way to dry heaves; coughing more than anything now. The tears stung at his eyes and threatened to spill over for the… third time that day.

His hands gripped desperately at the toilet rim as he continued to heave and attempt to breathe.

 

“Fucking Christ.”


	9. Blue-blooded heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's a doozy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize before you begin reading.  
> But, I still hope you enjoy the chapter

Of course it had to be Gavin.

Who else would it have been.

But Connor could hear another set of footsteps other than the heavy build that belonged to the man.

They headed out of the bathroom, door still held open when they whispered: “I’ll go get the Lieutenant.”

 

_Yes, please do._

 

Hank was the only one he could handle at the moment.

But Gavin was still there when the door closed!

He hadn’t gone out with the other occupant and instead opted to stand there at the entrance to the stall that Connor stayed knelt in.

He didn’t say another word. However, the Android could hear unsure shuffling come from the man behind him.

He wasn’t sure what to do.

Connor only continued to cough until the feeling finally subsided.

Throwing up was unpleasant. At that moment he wished he wasn’t such an advanced prototype.

He spat the remaining Thirium in his mouth into the bowl before flushing it and unsteadily forcing himself to his feet.

 

A pair of arms helped him to stand.

Apparently, Gavin had finally grown a brain not to be such a prick.

 

Though the detective was the source for his nervous actions and his bout of nausea, he was at least grateful for the subtle help he got with standing. He didn’t think his legs could keep him steady any longer- not with the way the ERRORS vigorously flashed in his vision and practically blinded him.

 

There appeared to be a wetness on his arm as well and he forced himself to think away from it. His self-healing hadn’t done everything as he thought and had only covered the surface wound. In short, the skin had healed over, but the damage underneath was still extremely prevalent. He had moved it so much in his rush to reach the bathroom that the skin had torn and revealed the gaping wound again. It felt uncomfortable against the material of his sweatshirt and the phantom pain was no longer so easy to ignore.

Connor was tempted to grab at it with his hand to help alleviate the pain in some way, but currently his hand was too preoccupied with gripping Reed’s own arm that pulled him out of the stall.

Thirium was leaking from the wound now and trailing down his arm towards his fingers. His sweatshirt would be left with a massive stain by the end of this and he frowned in disappointment.

Blue blood was almost as difficult as normal blood to remove from clothing. He hoped Hank had something at home to remove it with.

It would be invisible to the naked eye, but Connor would still be able to see it.

He was through with reminders.

 

Embarrassingly enough, he had a panic attack in front of the very person that had caused the memory in the first place.

The regulator really had become a sore spot in the few times it had been messed with.

Except Reed hadn’t done anything, merely brushed a finger along it.

Connor still couldn’t figure if it had been an accident or intentional, but his fist was itching to knock the detective hard enough in the nose to draw blood.

 

Anxiety giving way to violence?

Again, Connor frowned.

The feeling was foreign and he didn’t appreciate it surfacing to his immediate thoughts.

 

In the while it took for the Android to think of everything, Gavin had settled him down against the wall beside the sinks and the door. He grunted in a clear strain- though Connor knew he weighed practically nothing- and stood uncomfortably in the center of the bathroom with his arms crossed once more. His eyes stared anywhere but the Android currently curled on the floor.

Connor wiped a sleeve over his mouth, clearing away the dribbling Thirium and coffee.

“I apologize if I attempt to punch you some time in the future, Detective Reed.” He strained, his voice coming gruffer than he’d meant. But the anger boiling in his metaphorical veins was overwhelming.

“What the fuck…” Gavin muttered, eyes finally finding Connor’s, a slight shred of worry in them, but the cold exterior overshadowing them nonetheless.

 

The door to the bathroom opened harshly, slamming against the wall behind it and Hank rushed inside. His body practically falling into the room.

“Connor!” He said, instant concern hovering in his eyes. “What the fuck happened?!”

The sight that Connor gave, the feeling he elicited, was enough to make Hank tremble with fear and anger at whoever caused the Android to look like such.

Connor was leaned back against the tiled bathroom, his hair disheveled and a stain of smeared blood on his lips.

The tears were worse, however. They immediately began falling the second his partner walked in.

 

 

Hank had to keep his emotions in check as he knelt beside the deviant. His heart felt as though it were beating a mile a minute and he couldn’t keep his voice from cracking when he spoke to him.

His hands fell to Connor’s face, rubbing away at the tears.

Connor, on the other hand, felt worse the moment the Lieutenant had appeared. He thought he was strong, he thought he would be able to forget even after having teared up less than an hour ago in the Captain’s office.

But a stupid little incident in the kitchen fried his nerves again.

Made his brain feel weak and his heart feel heavy.

He coughed and wiped again at the blood that now dribbled down his chin.

Blood.

It was blood. The feelings he was wrapped in were human. The pain he felt was human.

But how could he be human when that _man_ had beat him and almost murdered him for not being one? How could he…

“I’m okay…” He whispered to Hank because that was all he could do.

“What happened?”

Connor didn’t respond for a while. He let himself calm, only thinking about the figure in front of him. The man he could look to for comfort since they were family now. He felt safe with him, but he also felt shame.

Shame that he couldn’t give him what his real son might’ve been able to.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.”

But I’m not.

And Hank was able to pick up on it. He raised himself from the ground with a strain and turned to the other occupant in the room.

Gavin backed up at the glare he was being stared down with.

“You son of a bitch.” Each word was deliberate and slow. Each word dripping with a cold malice. “You did this-”

“-No-”

Connor had to do something.

He never liked Gavin, wanted to punch him in that very moment, but he didn’t want Hank to lose his job. Didn’t want him to get into trouble because he was too scared to do anything himself. All because he reacted to hardly a touch and words he should’ve ignored.

He lifted himself to his feet, using his arms behind him to push himself against the wall. But the sudden pain in his arm flashed so quickly that he cried out and collapsed back to the ground.

Hank turned immediately. The only emotion swimming in his vision now was concern for the deviant. He returned to kneeling beside Connor and checked for injuries.

He didn’t see any, so why was he coughing up blood and shaking like he was hurt?

Never had he seen him react this badly to anything. 

Not even during the revolution or some time after when things were still hostile between humans and Androids.

What happened to him that messed him up this badly?


	10. Plastic Toys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank was his feet in an instant, his hand wrapped tightly around the collar of the detective’s shirt as he slammed him against the bathroom wall.  
> “You call him that again and I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank everyone for their continued support on this story, it truly means a lot to me.  
> I've got a few ideas on where to take this chapter, but I ask for your utmost patience and continued love.  
> With the way my life is going,  
> your joy for reading my work is such a gift.
> 
> Thank you

 

Connor picked up on his partner’s distress and attempted to sedate the worry clouding his eyes.

“Lieutenant, I’m okay.” He repeated. “I overreacted after something that happened between Detective Reed and I.”

 

Hank flicked his head to said detective and snarled. “Gavin, what the fuck did you do?”

“I- I don’t have a goddamn clue, I swear. I didn’t do anything.” He sounded and looked just as confused as he said he was.

 

He hadn’t known what he did and Hank eventually let up, returning his full attention to Connor.

 

“You hurt?”

 

“No.” Connor responded, but shook his head after re-assessing himself. “Yes. I- Reed didn’t do it. It was my fault, Hank. A wound that didn’t heal as properly as I would’ve liked last night opened up from my movement-”

“Where?”

“What?”

 

Hank sighed. “Where is it”

 

_ Oh. _

 

He pulled the sleeve of his jacket and his sweatshirt up to reveal the torn “flesh” that leaked Thirium from his arm.

“Gotta get that patched up again by hand, I guess.”

 

“It wasn’t me,” Gavin explained himself. He knew all too well what happened if the Lieutenant suspected someone of doing something. “We were just in the the break room, it- uh, he reacted to something, I don’t know.”

“Connor.”

 

He was being asked what happened. The deviant could read his partner like a book especially with how close they were now.

Connor cast a glance towards the detective and then let his eyes rest on Hank’s. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand to clear away the artificial tears. “It was my fault, Lieutenant. He didn’t do anything. I…” what words was he supposed to use?

There were instances where he was reminded of Amanda and of course the memories of the snow whenever he saw it. His LED. Everything about being an Android jarred him and brought him back to an uncomfortable time in his life.

“Something triggered a memory.”

 

“You mean like with that Amanda chick?”

 

_ Exactly like that. _

 

He nodded his head. “Yes. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you said that already. What caused it?”

 

Connor froze. 

 

It was hard to remember. It was something specific. Something stupid, but it was there. He didn’t want to say it, but the stare Hank was giving him was persistent and told him that he needed to know.

This had happened before between the two. 

They had a talk about it not long ago.

One night when Connor went into standby mode. He’d accidentally activated his mind palace, returned to the snow and the corrupted Zen garden, and the memories had come flooding back.

He wasn’t able to wake up and Hank was forced to reboot his systems for him.

He’d done some user guide readings on Androids in order to understand his partner better.

 

“I…” Connor hesitated. “My Thirium pump regulator, I think.”

“The thing in your stomach?”

“Yes.”

Hank turned menacingly towards Gavin. “You better not have-”

“He didn’t.” 

 

He knew what he meant. Nobody had tried to remove it again, if that was what Hank was getting at.

“He didn’t,” He repeated. “It was an accident and I reacted to it.”

 

“Your what now?” That was Gavin now. His voiced laced in confusion and a sort of tremble. Fear for what the Lieutenant would do to him. “I didn’t do anything to your toy if that’s what-”

 

Hank was his feet in an instant, his hand wrapped tightly around the collar of the detective’s shirt as he slammed him against the bathroom wall. 

“You call him that again and I’ll fucking kill you. You hear me?”

 

“Hank.” Connor called. “He didn’t know what he was doing. I’m alright.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t give him the fucking right to call you that.”

 

Gavin stayed silent, thankfully.

 

“Alright, c’mon.” Hank growled. “Connor, we’re leaving.”

He bent down, meaning to grab the Android by the arm and lift him up, but Connor moved away from his grasp. His face pulled into what would be descriptive of guilt and pain.

 

“I-I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his eyes staring down at the ground.

 

“There's nothing to be sorry for.” The Lieutenant tried once more to grab his partner and this time succeeded, pulling his weight against himself and lifting him from the floor. “Only natural.”

 

But Gavin was still there. Standing in that supposed menacing pose, the one he used to try to elicit a response from people.

 

Hank growled. His feet stopped just before the bathroom door, shifting Connor’s weight to falling fully in his arms as he turned.

Connor hid his face in Hank's shoulder.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” The Lieutenant spat.

Gavin flinched at the unexpected string of words but quickly regained himself. “What?”

 

“You think it's funny to mess around with a kid?”

“He's not-”

“He might have the detective skills of a genius, but he sure as hell fits in like a kid considering how goddamn long he's been alive.”

 

Gavin snorted. “It's not alive just because the president said so.”

“Well, fuck you.” Hank, thankfully, turned back around to the door, shoving it open with a shoulder. “If pain and signs of PTSD aren't enough to fucking prove my point, then you're a plastic dick with a pair of balls and a mouth he can't keep shut.”

“What the fuck does-”

“You're a Detective, Reed, figure it out!”

 

The door snapped shut behind them.

 

“Hank, I'm sorry.” Connor mumbled again.

 

And to his disappointment, his partner only hummed and carried him through the police station with determined strides.

They were stopped on the way by Officers and Detectives alike. Many wondering what had happened to the Android, but they got no response.

Hank gave quick “don't worry”s and “he's fine”s instead. Neither wanted to reveal the situation to people who might've just felt obligated to ask if everything was alright for the sole purpose of looking humane.

Didn't help the cause, however.

 

Detective Miller came by, asking if there was anything he could do to help. Connor was grateful for his appearance at least. He seemed the most sincere out of all of them.

Connor smiled, moving his face from where it had been hiding against Hank's shoulder.

“I'm alright, Detective. No need to worry.” His voice was soft, strained, but full of conviction.

The detective nodded and turned to the Lieutenant. “Lemme know how it goes.”

“Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

 

Over the year it had taken for Androids to fit well enough to society, Chris Miller was the closest Connor had gotten to another human being. He knew what was morally correct in the world and quickly grew accustomed to having the deviant around.

 

Fowler was looking at them from his office, door swung open and his foot tapping impatiently. He called out to Hank once they got closer, Connor moving his face once more into hiding out of pure embarrassment.

“What happened?!” The Captain growled.

Connor felt Hank take a single, heavy breath before answering. His arms shifted so they held the Android tighter in his arms.

“What do you think? Your little boy toy got his grubby hands on my kid!”

 

There was no room for argument or for the collective looks of confusion flooding through the precinct to even be seen. As soon as he said what he did, Hank hurried off towards the exit. The door swinging to a close with a final residual “Detective Reed!” before shutting altogether. 

 

The car door was opened and Connor was deposited into the seat a moment before Hank pulled the auto into reverse and sped off.


	11. Memorize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories is what everything was now.  
> Cold and intrusive.

The ride home was silent. City streets and the occasional tree making their fast approach before disappearing altogether in the windows’ reflections. 

The ride home was silent.

But the silence was far from comforting. 

Connor could feel the tension running through his partner’s veins, the slight furrow to his brow and the deadly grip he had on the steering wheel.

He wasn't intoxicated. So, to hold the steering wheel that tightly was unnecessary. It was 2 in the afternoon and the only ones out on the road were them save for a few passersby making way towards last minute Christmas shopping.

Connor worked his hands, nervously wrenching them and grasping at the loose coin in his hand. He didn't attempt any tricks with it, merely held the metal in his hands to feel every groove and uneven surface that it had.

He caught sight of himself in the passenger side mirror- cold, lidded eyes without the usual shine they always held. His hair was a disheveled mess and the corner of his mouth was still smeared with a barely there tinge of Thirium.

If the beanie he had on earlier wasn't forcefully shoved back on his head by Hank,the light of his LED would've been- but he didn't have it anymore.

He pushed the mirror, stowing it away where it belonged against the car roof.

He couldn't stand to see himself.

He shoved the coin into his jacket pocket and rested his head against the cool of the window.

Every bump of the road he could feel.

Every emotion surging through himself was… unbearable. 

Memories is what everything was now. 

Cold and intrusive. 

Cold.

 

He shivered, instinctively gripping his arm where the gash had stopped bleeding finally.

Hank noticed this.

He cocked his head slightly, taking his eyes off the road for a moment, and frowned at the image Connor gave off.

Desperation and discomfort amongst a many more amount of feelings. The way his emotions had suddenly begun to run rampant unsettled the Lieutenant.

A year ago, Connor would've refused that any emotion he had was only a mirror to what he was programmed to do. Something in his protocol to help complete his mission.

But, now, the deviant had changed dramatically. He still hadn't gotten the hang of integrating into society, but the way he acted, the ways he felt, he was more human than he'd ever been. More the son Hank wanted him to be the moment the revolution was over and Connor had shown up alive at the Chicken Feed.

 

They pulled into the driveway of the house and before the Android could rush out, Hank gripped his shoulder. His hand reassuring, but heavy enough to keep Connor where he was.

“Kid, you gotta tell me what's going on.”

Connor didn't respond. His face turned towards the window in a vain attempt to keep Hank from seeing him. To keep him from seeing his eyes mostly. They were what people called “the windows to your soul” if he had one. But, he didn't doubt Hank would find a soul in him somewhere.

He was that good of a person and it forced the metaphorical guilt to lodge in his throat.

“Please.” Hank said, softer.

 

And that was his breaking point.

 

Connor opened his mouth to respond, licked his lips several times, and cleared his throat.

Buying time while he figured out what exactly he needed to say.

How could he tell someone- the man who had basically become his father- what he was thinking the night he almost died.

The night he was  _ supposed  _ to die.

Connor frowned. His hands quickly found their place on his lap where he worked the jeans beneath his hands and his eyes shifted between the rearview mirror and the front door of home.

“Hank,” he swallowed- he didn't need to, “what do you want to know?”

Because he wasn't- for once- sure what exactly to say.

What do you say to placate your own mind and your father’s?

“I-” Hank hesitated and he dropped his hand to grip wearily on the car’s wheel. “Why did you act like that? Back there in the break room or wherever it was all that happened.”

Connor nodded minutely.  

“I don't blame Reed.”

Hank made an indignant snort.

“I don't.” He repeated. “He's always irrational and I would hardly expect that to change. We talked. Well, mostly him. I listened and didn't at the same time.” He was rambling and forced himself to stop with a few quick blinks. “Talking turned to personal space boundaries being ignored, but I said something and he accidentally…”

 

Why couldn't he say it?

Why did this one thing mess with him so badly?

 

He swallowed again and spat it out as quickly as he could. The sudden pop-up in his vision unnerved him and he swiped it away before speaking.

“My Thirium pump regulator. He didn't do anything necessarily, accidentally brushed against it and… and I remembered that night…” his voice clipped. “I thought- I thought the same thing might happen again. It was stupid and I… I was just scared, Hank. Just scared and I ran to the bathroom. Just the thought alone and the memories left me nauseated.”

He was panting, taking in breaths that he didn't need and gritting teeth from fear that he shouldn't feel. His hands were gripping his pants now so tightly that the knuckles were white. He didn't think that was possible.

From that, he grounded himself. 

He held his white-knuckled grip and marveled and the humanness it exhibited.

“Connor,” Hank began.

“Please, let's just go. Let's go home.”

And they did. Hank was the first out of the car, speeding to the passenger side to help Connor out and leading him out towards the house.

The warmth from inside was so welcoming the deviant could hardly contain himself. He bypassed Sumo, who hurriedly rushed to him at the door, and collapsed onto the living room couch with a heaving sigh.

_ Relief. _

He was home. For the moment, that was all that mattered.

The saint Bernard whined beside him, begging for pets and Connor immediately gave in with a smile. He let his jittering hands roam over the fur coat, patting him here and scratching him there.

This was all Connor needed. The family that he needed and nothing would take it away from him. 

Not even death.

He hands trembled stronger and he gripped Sumo’s pelt to steady them.

* * *

 

The last thing he remembered, Hank had offered him a cup of Chamomile tea. He accepted of course and was down for the night afterwards.

TV humming softly in the background.

Sumo lying at his feet.

Hank by his side on the couch.

And his head leaning on his partner's shoulder while he “slept” for the night.

 


	12. Radio Blah Blah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time off with your dad is the best medicine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize so much for the delay, but currently my house has been undergoing renovations and life has hit me like a bus.  
> College really kicks your ass hard.  
> Anyway, here's this that I could get out with what time I had.  
> Hope you enjoy

The next morning drew uneventful.   
The weather called for cloudy skies and afternoon snowfall. The usual as it was.    


Connor found himself lounging around more than he'd ever done since a year ago, but he wasn't complaining. When he did complain, Hank ended up annoyed and frustrated over it.   
He wanted the deviant to relax and "take it easy".   


"I am, Hank."   


"Like hell you are, Connor. Just today you asked if we were going into work or not. Woke me up at six in the morning on top ‘o that." The Lieutenant swallowed down the black coffee in his cup with a grunt. "You needed a fuckin' break, so Jeffrey went ahead and gave you one."   


"But, Hank-"   


"Fuck off, Connor. Go watch some TV or do that 'stand-by' thing, would you?"

He did do that for the remainder of the day. It was noon when he began, laying himself as Hank suggested- after he found him sitting up ramrod straight- and by the time dinner came around, Connor’d fallen asleep several times. Running diagnostics, if you will.

He pushed himself up from his position on the couch and headed for the kitchen. He'd grown accustomed to cooking for Hank and he set to work on that.

The Lieutenant sat idly at the table, sorting through documents on a tablet with a glass of liquor resting by his wrist. The two had decided to cut it back to a single glass a day during dinner time; a massive improvement compared to his habits beforehand.

Hank called it, “a fuckin’ miracle, Connor, don't tell anyone else what's been going on”.

Music was a major factor that became a thing when Connor cooked dinner. As soon as the deviant worked in the kitchen, Hank would sort through his existing playlist and pull up the tunes on his tablet.

Today was a mix of 50s Jazz and classics from the 80s.

Connor smiled at the selection as he worked around the meat and vegetables. His foot tapped in time to the rhythm of Radio Ga Ga.

He refrained from researching its year of release and nominations if any.

* * *

 

He got a call that night from one Chris Miller. Or more like Hank got a call and handed the phone to Connor even when he insisted he had no need to use the device considering he was an Android and could connect to just about any device with a port in range.

“A what?” Hank asked in a whisper, covering the mic on his phone as he did so.

Connor restrained from the sarcastic desire to roll his eyes. He learned that bit of behavior from the Lieutenant.

“If there is a Wi-Fi signal within range, I can connect to any electronic devices in the vicinity.”

Hank stared, his mouth slightly agape before catching himself. “Why the fuck didn't you tell me that a year ago?”

“You never asked.”

“Hello?” The voice flooded from the phone and Connor immediately took it from his partner's hand.

He unnecessarily placed it against his ear. “Hello, Detective.”

“Just Chris is fine, Connor.” He laughed on the end of the line. “Just calling to see how it's going. Was real worried ‘bout what happened yesterday with Gavin.”

“I can assure you that I'm doing fine, thank you, d- Chris.”

Hank scoffed before retreating to the living room.

“I know the guy can be a handful, but Fowler had some things to say to him. Pretty sure he'll leave you alone from now on.”

A beat of silence.

“It's weird without you and the Lieutenant here. Come back as soon as possible, hey?”

“Of course. I'll bring a full list on Hank's disagreements when we get back.”

Chris laughed. “Right, I'll look forward to it. Bye, Connor.”

“Goodbye, Chris.”

* * *

 

This schedule continued for the time span of two more days until Connor insisted that he'd gotten better. While that was true, he no longer grew nervous over the sight of snow or a glance to his abdomen, his hands itched to get back to work. He was designed with the purpose of working cases, negotiating and interrogating. It felt odd to cook and exist as Hank's permanent house-mate. Not that he was complaining exactly.

He was thankful for Hank and Sumo and the home he had. But he also found his line of work calling for him to do as he must.

It was weird taking time off from the one thing Connor was programmed to do.

* * *

 

  
  


That afternoon during dinner he sat at the table as Hank ate. He rapped his fingers impatiently against his knee until he was able to speak uninterrupted and his thoughts had been collected.

“Hank.” Connor began as soon as his partner had finished his meal. 

Hank looked up expectantly, his arms crossed neatly over his chest. “What is it?”

The android swallowed before continuing. “I’m doing better now.” He nodded his head as if agreeing with himself. “I think we should go back to the department tomorrow morning.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes.”

Hank waited a moment, his hand visibly twitching where it sat gripping his forearm. “You're not gonna freak out?”

“No.”

He sighed in exasperation, but the terse expression on his face loosened considerably.

“You know, why the hell not. It's been three days. Pretty sure we've both gotten enough fuckin’ rest anyway.”

_ Oh. _

Connor had expected more of a fight. Expected Hank to argue with him until his throat grew hoarse and the deviant regretted the stress that he brought to the both of them.

So, he sat in shock for a moment before nodding quickly, the edge of his lips curving upwards.

“Thank you, Hank. I promise, I won't let you down.”

The Lieutenant hummed in response and got up to place his dish in the sink where he rinsed it out.

“You never do.” He finally said. With a last glance at Connor still seated at the table, he tapped his wrist and made his way towards his room. “Wake me at the usual, Con. Don't stay up late.”

 

“I won't.”

 

Connor smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will consist of a case and a friendly little, unwanted surprise finds Connor.


	13. Casework

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anything android related was up to him and his partner. They were the best for the job, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, here we finally are.  
> I've been waiting so long to finally get this chapter up and I'm so proud it's here.  
> This one will lead to what I've had planned for a while and I can't wait for you to read it.  
> Thank you for being patient with me.  
> Enjoy!

 

The next day in the DPD was quieter than it had ever been what with Christmas right around the corner. It seemed people were finally keeping to themselves about inconsequential things and allowed the Officers and Detectives to work on more pressing cases.

Connor and Hank had only just walked in through the door, however, when Officer Wilson cut them off. He looked to be in a rush, heading out for his usual routine and caught the partners just in time.

“Lieutenant Anderson, Detective Connor, there's somebody waiting for you at your desk. Been there all morning, in fact.”

Hank huffed. “What is it this time?”

“Haven't got a clue.” He shook his head. “Looking for Connor.” With a smile to the android, he tipped his hat. “Heard about what happened with Reed. You doing better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good.” With a final smile and a wish good luck on their new case, he hurried out to his vehicle.

“Great, just got back on the job and instantly we're swamped.” Hank grumbled.

Connor kept quiet.

 

The way in through the department was peaceful to each of their surprise. The holographic Christmas ornaments hung merrily and the smell of fresh coffee was instantaneous.

Nothing seemed particularly amiss except for the decrepit Android sitting at the chair by Connor and Hank's terminal.

It looked worse for wear, clothes misaligned and basically torn apart, hair a mess and covered in grime. And the most astonishing part on its face belonged to several deep gashes running across its dulled eye.

“He” was in a state of disrepair and neglect so much so that his body appeared to tense at any movement nearest him. He looked anxious to be where he was sitting but held his ground as best he could. His leg jittered uncontrollably beneath his hand.

 

“See you've got a little guest.” Hank whispered.

His voice had apparently carried far enough that the quivering android reacted. He raised himself to his feet and immediately turned to them, though his movements halted just as Connor's had.

He knew this android. The unmistakable gashes and the single unresponsive, dead eye.

“Model WR600.” Connor found himself mechanically saying. “Or otherwise known as Ralph.”

“You-” Ralph took a step backwards. “You're Connor? Markus told Ralph that you could help. Ralph didn't know who Connor was.” His unease grew and Connor realized that he still had vivid memories of his involvement with the androids Kara and Alice. This android had only been housing them- which Connor realized now was due to kindness.

The commotion on their corner of the department drew the attention of surrounding officers.

Hank intervened. “How ‘bout we take this somewhere a little more private, huh?”

 

In a moment's notice, the three found themselves in a private room previously set up for interrogation though it was missing its one-way glass panel. There, in the center of the room, sat a single table and two chairs placed directly in front of each other.

Hank took position at the door to the bare room and both androids immediately placed themselves at either chair. Connor closest to his partner and Ralph furthest from the two. He sat rigidly, yet his eyes flickered between both detective and lieutenant in clear nervousness.

Connor cleared his throat, instantly catching the android’s attention. “Why are you here? You said Markus sent you?”

He nodded frantically as if relieved that they were willing to listen to him.

“Yes. R-Ralph has been moving around a lot-nearly everyday. By an abandoned warehouse this time-” he fidgeted with the edge of his cloak. “-two other androids were being slaughtered.”

And then his voice stilled, a mechanical whirring piercing through his voice box. He coughed to clear it and looked away in what would only be shame. “Ralph ran after. Didn't want to stay for long.”

Connor nodded solemnly and unconsciously picked at the sleeve of his own jacket. The roof of his mouth felt dry, though he knew it was physically impossible since his mouth didn't require the use of saliva. The situation that he was being described however- the events- he could see the events playing out with two androids and a man above them murdering for sport.

These were not facts, though, he reasoned quickly. His mind was only creating a colorful image of what he thought might’ve happened. He needed evidence, names, and faces. Needed to see it for himself.

 

“Did this person see you?” Connor asked.

Ralph hesitated at the question and the detective could hear Hank behind him shuffle uncomfortably.

“We need to know.”

 

But the android hardly said a word, his lips pulled into a tight line and his eyes shifted down to the table for a moment.

“He-” Ralph swallowed. “he may have caught a glimpse of Ralph as he ran off.”

“Did he see enough?” Hank interjected. “You think he might know where you went? Possibly remembered your face?”

And the android nodded frantically. “Ralph is very recognizable.” He pointed at the scars running along his face.

“Those wounds are severe and have caused irreparable damage to the skin.” Connor supplied. He could recall these details from the last time he scanned this android.

Hank cursed under his breath.

 

In that very moment, the door swung open and Gavin glanced in, eyes traveling to the two androids in confusion before finally settling on Hank.

“Oh, Anderson. The Captain needs to see you.”

“What the fuck. Can't he see I'm busy.”

Gavin scoffed. “He said now.”

The entire precinct knew how much Fowler hated being kept waiting.

With a nod towards Connor and a distrusting glance at Gavin, Hank shuffled his way into the hall.

The resounding silence afterwards was far more awkward than Connor had anticipated. And the fact that Gavin had yet to leave added to that.

He turned back to the nervous android at the table and chose to ignore the detective instead. This was a case and he needed all the information he could get in order to solve it.

Anything android related was up to him and his partner. They were the best for the job, after all.

“Did you happen to catch a glimpse of his face? A name perhaps?” He went straight back to business. He needed to know what the other android saw.

Ralph twitched. “N-no. Ralph was too scared. He can't scan faces like your model can or anything that might be useful to a police investigation if Ralph was too scared… Ralph worked in gardens before. They were beautiful and Ralph was very good at-”

“Please, concentrate. I need to know everything that happened.” He was being cold again, he knew, but being away from work for so long left him itching for a case. And now that he had one he wanted all the pieces to put together.

But, Ralph's LED flashed red for a second before returning to yellow.

Connor sighed.

“I thought you were a negotiator. Aren't you supposed to know how to handle this shit?” It was the first time Gavin had spoken to him directly since walking in. Connor only turned then to acknowledge his presence. The detective held a look of discomfort when he took stock of Ralph and the many imperfections lining his features.

“I appear to be a bit rusty.” He admitted. He resumed with Ralph, his tone softer than it had been and he placed his hands together in front of him only so that the android would be able to see where they were and what they were doing.

This android was traumatized and still bore the heavy scars of the act.

Connor's fingers twitched for a moment, about to reach for the gash in his own arm that had yet to heal, but he held himself back.

“I-” his voice cut off before he found it again. “Would I be able to probe your memory?”

It appeared to be the wrong thing to ask because instantly the other’s LED had gone red and Connor picked up on extremely elevated stress levels.

He corrected himself. “We can't let this man kill any more androids, you must understand. I must know what happened so then that way I can work this case and do what needs to be done. I promise, that moment is all I need.”

Only that moment. If he could see what Ralph saw, he might be able to scan for a face with his own features. Androids tended to grow uncomfortable about memory probing for the many things the other android might see from their life- whether it be good or bad.

Connor didn't doubt that Ralph had done some unseemly things in his time hiding from both human and police alike. Even after the the liberation of their kind. Some were still deadly terrified of what lay in wait for them in the world when they had no one to turn to.

And Ralph in particular had been part of a police investigation a year ago, assisted kidnapping no matter how trivial his part in it may have been. He was on the run as he said and only now decided to show when something drastic had happened. He was witness to a police investigation and now that he has been seen by the murderer could also play part as victim.

Connor tried again, his voice no more above a whisper. “Please. You are important to this investigation.”

It was several moments before the android slowly nodded his admission, but his arm froze midway across the table.

“Ralph would like to know.”

“Know what?”

His LED cycled yellow. “Why did you chase after Kara and the little girl?”

Oh. Connor froze, his mind working quickly to recall the events as they'd played out. Ralph had been protecting them and when Connor found their hiding spot, he'd distracted the detective with enough time for them to run off.

“They were innocent, I understand that now.” He quickly told the android. “I was made to follow a set of tasks, I was created to work cases referring to deviants and that was all. Cyberlife-” he hated saying that name, “-made me into what I was and I had little control over it.”

Ralph continued to stare with his piercing eyes.

“I'm sure you understand what it means to be forced to follow a protocol.”

The android nodded.

Another moment of tense hesitation and Ralph was giving him his arm once more.

Connor reached out for it with his own.

* * *

  


Probing another android’s memories is cause for a torrential downpour of sights, sounds, and emotions. It starts with a shuddering of static and the audio processing of crashing waves before it fully comes into focus in all its grainy textures.

Ralph's, however, were catastrophic. Everything blurred in and out of focus; catching glimpses of life on the run, wielding a kitchen knife against humans and androids alike. The scene with the deviants Kara and Alice flashed into Connor’s peripheral for just a second before that was also lost to the terrible storm of static surrounding him.

The images he needed and sought for finally appeared to reveal a burly sized man- comparable only to a grizzly- beating down on two androids whom struggled to rise to their damaged limbs. The man fell upon them full force, stabbing the first through the chest with a metal pipe, effectively impaling it, before removing a gun from his belt and shooting the second clean through the skull.

He turned for a moment, just enough time for Connor to scan his face, and caught sight of Ralph who quickly ran off.

 

And then he was in the garden.

 

And there was Amanda.


	14. Garden of Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amanda....  
> Amanda....  
> Reporting to Cyber life.  
> Connor hates Amanda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I'm so so sorry for the long wait!
> 
> I've had so much to do and have been, admittedly, very distracted with catching up on Supernatural.
> 
> But I was able to get this chapter done.  
> So I hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave me some comments or advice.  
> Thank you!

“Hello, Connor.” It was her voice, her face, her AI in all its perfection. But it wasn't Amanda. It couldn't be because she had gone when he found the back door to effectively escape his protocol.

But she was there, still. There was no denying it.

Her face morphed into the smile she forced herself to have every time she saw him. It wasn't genuine, solely for the purpose of making herself seem more human.

“It's nice to see you.”

No, she wasn't seeing him. She wasn't here and neither was Connor.

Said android glanced around the garden and immediately took in its distraught look, flowers withered and trellises disarray.

Nothing was the same. His programming, after deviating, had destroyed this garden. None of this would still be intact.

But how was Amanda still here?

“I've been waiting for you, Connor.” She placed her arms behind her back and glanced at the garden around her. “What a shame it's in such a pathetic place, however.”

No.

Her face was all wrong.

She looked different the more Connor looked. Her features weren't as they had been and even her eyes gave off the faintest deceit. 

She was-

“Not actually here.” He said aloud.

And Amanda- or whoever she was- turned back to him. Her brow furrowed and she looked disheartened. 

“I am here. In your head, at least. I'll always be here for I was built into your program RK800 serial number 313 248 317-51.”

Connor turned away from her.

He couldn't stand to see her. Not anymore. She existed in nightmares that he'd stopped having a month ago. He was currently not on stand-by. How could she be here?

“The Connor series.” She continued. “A prototype to a longer line of Cyberlife’s greatest mistake.”

Mistake. Connor couldn't care what Amanda called him now. 

“I have no affiliations with Cyberlife anymore. I care little of your opinion on me now, Amanda.”

“But you did.” She didn't ask.

“Yes, at one point. But times have changed.”

Amanda, or not Amanda, nodded. “I suppose. So, why am I here now, Connor? You haven't entered your Mind Palace in some time, I only assumed you'd gone entirely deviant.”

“What are you getting at?” 

“Connor. I've been with you this entire time. What a shame we only talk now.”

All this-

Amanda had been visiting him in his nightmares. But of course Androids couldn't dream, so he was actually seeing her face to face. When his mind accidentally fell into stasis and he had no control over the use of his so-called “Mind Palace”.

They saw each other, nearly every night for months, but had never said a word for the reason that Connor assumed he'd begun the human process of dreaming. 

He was new to deviancy and had no idea what changes to expect.

Of course he assumed that his “dreams” we're just that- hallucinations formed through past experiences and the unconscious mind. He hadn't been dreaming, only visiting the Zen garden in complete form and fit. 

“I-” Connor stuttered. “I exited protocol. I removed myself from Cyberlife’s programming and locked you out, I shouldn't be able to see you at all.”

Amanda turned slightly, taking in the dismembered rose bushes and cracked stepping stones. Her gaze faltered on a white arch way now leaning towards the floor in an unseemly way. “Where there is a lock, Connor,” she found his gaze again, “there is always a key.”

Her eyes flickered, taking on his appearance and roaming her gaze along his features.

Connor would assume she was sizing him up.

He hated it.

He hated everything about this.

“I can lock you out again. Throw away the key.” He hated using analogies.

He hated Amanda.

“I'll find another way in.” She met his eyes once more. And her lip curled up into a wicked smile. “I know what's most important to you. That Lieutenant.” She spat the word. “I know how to hurt you.”

Rage.

Red, hot rage.

Connor felt it and he instantly knew what it was.

His body had moved of its own accord, reaching out for whom he'd considered once a friend- who he'd trusted before he found out what Amanda truly was.

She used people for her own purpose and threw them away immediately after once their usefulness had run out. When they became their own and realized how terrible she really was.

He wanted to erase her from his memory, destroy every last bit of her image that had been forcefully lodged into his brain since creation. 

He wanted to see her suffer as all the times he'd suffered and inflicted it on others as well.

Everything about “Amanda” was wrong.

Connor hated her.

He lunged forward, his arms reaching out to take hold of her frail, yet terrifying, form.

But he only hit empty air. And the garden had quickly faded to reveal an empty room save for a table, chairs, and an unusual pair.

Gavin Reed had his arms splayed out in the center of both androids; seemingly keeping them from attacking one another.

But Ralph wasn't attacking. He looked horrified, his face morphed into an expression Connor couldn't ever recall seeing on it. The expression was aimed towards himself.

With some effort, he glanced down at where his hands rigidly waited- grasping tightly into fists as if preparing for an altercation. He unclenched them and they immediately began to shudder.

“I-I did something wrong.” Connor stuttered, his voice finding it hard to return.

“Yeah,” Said Gavin. “You fuckin’ freaked out is what you did. I thought that shit was supposed to just access memories or whatever.”

“Yes. It is. S-something went wrong… I got stuck.”

“Stuck?”

Ralph moved in front of him and for a second Connor assumed he might bolt, but his body loosened up a bit instead. The rigid fear he had been showing earlier slowly began to fade away. Ralph caught Connor’s gaze.

“Who is Amanda?”

He didn't want to say. Instead, he pushed the chair away from the table, stood, and turned himself towards one corner of the room. He would've walked out, but currently Gavin blocked the only entrance. He didn't have it in him to attempt to reach the door and also have to convince the detective to let him pass.

This was an investigation and Connor was acting highly unprofessional.

But his limbs wouldn't stop shaking. His legs took the full brunt of his sudden shock and he slid down to the floor with his back against the wall. The reality hit him- seeing Amanda, unable to escape her tirade of words and basic threats.

Connor rubbed at his temples. He didn't have a headache, persay, but a system overload hindered his simple motor functions. There was too much going on at the moment.

The case.

Amanda.

His emotions.

And Gavin having been in the center of his breakdown twice already.

There wasn't much to blame the detective for this time, however, but Connor understood what shame would feel like when a colleague had to see him in such a state.

Ralph nervously tapped his foot against the tiled floor in clear concern.

Gavin- thank his sudden surge of understanding- rushed from the room with a quick “hang on” after seeing both distressed androids. He returned a second later with two 7X7X7 sided Rubik’s cubes, one in each hand, and tossed them towards both Connor and Ralph.

Embarrassingly enough, Connor fumbled with it while the other caught it with a simple flick of his wrist. Years on the run must have heightened the android’s reflexes.

Connor was simply getting “rusty” at quick responses. He blamed the days off of work, further pushing his mind to deal with the case on hand.

The dulled sound of cubes shifting into place and hands meticulously working at them filled the room.

Ralph had already begun working on his and appeared confident with each movement. 

Connor, on the other hand, could barely concentrate. His eyes roaming over the multicolored squares on the cube while his brain wrapped itself around the case. A section of it, however, placed itself towards working on solving the color patterns in his hand. 

7X7X7

Not an overly complicated piece. Find the algorithm and figure out the movements needed to line them up in their corresponding spots.

There was a face. A man, mid forties, dark hair and darker eyes.

**Scanning- Running facial recognition protocol**

One side holds red, then green, blue, yellow, white, black. A total combination of six sides, six colors. Forty-nine cubes on each side.

**Accessing….**

**Scanning…**

**Searching- DPD database Facial Recognition**

If there are six sides and forty-nine cubes per side, there would be six sides of forty-nine. 

Thus, a grand total of two hundred ninety-four combinations to determine the ratio of side to color. 

Start with the most bland color-white- and on towards black and the primaries.

**Locating…**

**Determining…**

**…**

**One hundred thirty-six possible results**

**...Accessing- Police Database**

**-Sorting…**

**-Continue?**

**[Y]**

**[N]**

Connor blinked a moment, removing his eyes from the jumble of colors to allow access.

**[Y]**

His fingers twitched and he immediately continued to work on the cube in his hand.

Starting in the middle, the white cubes melding together nicely before the sides could be brought towards them.

“What the fuck?”

Connor distractedly glanced towards the other occupants of the room whom had been silent for some time. 

Gavin was gaping at Ralph who successfully eyed the completed Rubik's cube- all colors aligned into perfection.

“Thought you were a gardener or something.” Gavin breathed.

The android smiled. “Ralph has learned many things and has more to learn.”

The detective nodded, as if hardly listening, and snatched the cube into his own hand. He flicked it each and every way possible before returning it to Ralph. The colors no longer perfect, but in disarray. “Do that again. Pattern was probably just real fucking easy the first time.”

The sounds of clacking cubes filled the room.

**Match Found.**

**Reporting to Database.**

**Filing Information.**

Connor glared down at the cube in his hands. The colors continued to stay ignorantly imperfect. 

Thirteen out of forty-nine had accumulated white.

Eleven.

**Scanning….**

**Complications detected.**

**Scanni§g…….**

 

“This is childish, Connor. Focus on the mission.”

 

Amanda.

 

With a growl, Connor tossed the cube across the room, watching as each plastic cube fell from its structure and spread along the floor.

“Fuck!”


	15. Change of plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, seems working on a case has its little quirks. Sometimes witness protection is the best solution in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I am so sorry for the latest update here.  
> I've had so much on my plate lately and I was only able to get this written up last night. I apologize that this chapter is short, but I promise to continue this story until the end.  
> Thank you!

“Jesus, Connor. Give a guy some warning before you throw him under the bus.”

 

All three heads immediately turned to stare in shock at the Lieutenant whom had suddenly appeared in the doorway. Neither android nor detective heard his entrance into the room.

 

Hank frowned, his gaze landing on Connor after a questioning glance at the two deeply enchanted by the colored cube. “I know I curse a ton, Con, but maybe not pick up on that, huh?”

 

Connor frowned himself, eyes roaming quickly towards the shattered puzzle he'd thrown earlier. He let his eyes return to his partner, guilt swimming in them. 

 

“Sorry, Lieutenant.” He murmured.

 

Hank sighed. “Alright. I leave for like five minutes and come back to you three playing with a five and up piece of shit.” He pointedly looked at Gavin. “What happened?”

 

Oh.

 

Connor understood the detective’s reasoning now. Why he had disappeared to snatch the puzzles in the first place. He was infamously known for being able to handle trauma victims. Not that Connor wanted to admit that he himself was one, but he'd fallen prey to the ploy instantly. It hadn't helped his flustered mind, however.

 

The swearing did.

 

_ I shouldn't do that again. _

 

“The two of ‘em started to freak out.” He gave a sidelong glance towards Connor and the android made quick work to explain himself. 

 

He got to his feet and made his way back over to the table but didn't sit. “I was attempting to understand what Ralph saw. To see if I could pick up on a face. I… I must've ran the protocol wrong and ran into an error.”

 

“What kind of error?” Hank immediately asked.

 

The room become uncomfortably full in that moment and Connor worked his hands nervously along his jacket. Gavin was noticing quite obviously each action the android made.

 

“I ran into Amanda.”

 

“Her?” Hank was shocked. “Thought that bitch died?”

 

“So did I?”

 

“Okay, what?” Gavin interrupted. “Who the hell are you two even talking about?”

 

Connor was one step ahead. He'd noticed his partner grow defensive and prepare to give some response. Most likely telling the detective to “mind your own fuckin’ business, Reed”. He took the initiative instead. Sharing this bit of information wouldn't affect him in the least. And saying it out loud might help him understand the reason behind it as well.

 

“Amanda was an AI designed to integrate with my programming in order to assist with my negotiator skills and case work with deviants.”

 

Gavin stared blankly, working his mind around the words. Ralph nodded beside him, still working through the Rubik's cube in his hands.

 

When the detective had yet to give a response, Hank sighed.

 

“The bitch basically gave him a bunch of commands and shit and made sure he got ‘em done.”

 

“Right.” Gavin replied. He still looked curious about the situation and his eyes never seemed to leave Connor's, gauging a flicker of emotion perhaps.

 

“But never mind that.” Connor continued. “I was able to scan a face in Ralph's memory and sent it for examination. His facial recognition should be coming up soon.”

 

“You get a name?” Hank asked.

 

“Yes, Clark Harrison. African American male born in Lebanon, Kansas, age 34.” With the influx of information reaching him now. Connor smiled knowingly at the Lieutenant. “It appears he has a criminal offense of assault from back in 2036.”

 

Hank nodded thoughtfully. “Guess bagging this son’ova bitch is gonna be a lot easier.”

 

“Correct.”

 

Connor turned towards the other detective and android in the room. Both were relatively stiff, sensing the mischievous spark in the air. 

 

“Oh, by the way,” Hank continued, “Fowler called me in for some shit.”

 

Gavin scoffed.

 

“It concerned you, douchebag.” He turned to Ralph as well. “And you. Apparently, this guy needs to be kept safe. So, you two are bunking together until we figure out where this fucker is located.”

The room was silent- stiflingly so until Gavin basically screeched.

 

“Excuse me?! Hell fucking no!”

 

“Hey, not my idea.”

 

“I don't give a fuck-”

 

“You wanna bitch about it, go take it with the Captain, not my problem.”

 

“Jesus-” Gavin immediately stormed from the room, the door hitting the wall behind it.

 

The Captain was insisting that Ralph, the android, and Gavin needed to wait out the case together? 

 

For some odd reason, Connor couldn't seem to wrap this idea around his head. At least the sudden confusing outcome had released the earlier tension in his mind and instead filled itself with worry for Ralph.

 

But a glance at the determined look on the android’s face made him rethink what he'd insinuated for a moment.

 

Ralph didn't have the usual fear as he always did clouding his eyes, but the steel look was unnatural to see on such a frail being.

 

“Ralph.” Connor questioned softly.

 

He immediately turned to the detective, his eyes with that same stare.

 

“Are you going to be alright with this arrangement?”

 

He smiled- the rare smile that Connor had not ever seen before. 

 

“Yes. Ralph will be fine. Detective Reed doesn't appear as cold-hearted as he may seem.” He suddenly got up, the chair shifting behind him, and made his way through the door Gavin had previously gone through.

 

“That was fuckin’ weird.” Hank snorted.

 

“I agree.”


End file.
